


Pulling Others In To Drown

by Bluerain1984



Series: Strangers in a Strange Land [14]
Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: Angst, Confrontations, Drama, Gen, Joseph has issues, Lies, M/M, Mary is no saint, Multi, Panic Attacks, Past Infidelity, Past Relationship(s), Secrets, The Truth Revealed, so much drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-23 04:21:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11982024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluerain1984/pseuds/Bluerain1984
Summary: 'Joseph sat at one of the out-door tables while waiting for Damien to arrive. It wasn’t a long wait, though. Five minutes after being seated, he spotted Damien’s black Lincoln pulling in. Damien was still in his work outfit, too. Better make the most of the hour, then. Joseph smiled, waving at Damien until the ebon-haired man joined him.“This is certainly an interesting choice in eateries,” Damien said as he took the seat opposite the youth pastor.“Nothing beats lunch with an ocean view.”'





	Pulling Others In To Drown

**Author's Note:**

> And here we go...

“No, Mr. Hawthorne, I can’t seem to find the issue you’re having. Shall I explain it again?” Damien clicked through three windows, looking across the two screens occupying his desk. He was already swamped with tickets and was juggling with re-working a program for his company’s accounting department, along with trying to block a nasty virus that someone in their branch three hours away had contracted through a damn ‘you may have won’ email. How had they gotten someone so naïve into the payroll? Now, Damien had this angry member of the administration bellowing at him because he didn’t have the foresight to record his passwords anywhere and was now locked out of his log-in account.

“NO,” shouted the man calling, causing Damien to wince a bit at the reverberation of the noise through his ear-piece. “I want you to fix my damn log-in! I have work to do! Actual work!”

“I understand the frustration, Sir,” Damien said, using his most soothing, but professional, tone, while internally seething. Did Damien not also have ‘actual work’ to do as well?  “I shall reset your password, and unlock the account for you again.”

“This site’s crap,” Mr. Hawthorne said. “What human being can remember all the different passwords we’re supposed to have off the top of their damn head?”

“Indeed,” Damien said, “It can be difficult. I personally keep my passwords within a memo on my cell. Password protected of course,” he added with a soft, forced chuckle. “Perhaps that could work for you as well?”

There was silence at the end of the line as Damien got the account opened and placed in a new password. Eventually, his caller said, “That could work, yeah.” It seemed Damien had finally calmed him.

“It certainly helps me,” Damien said. “Mr. Hawthorne, I’ve opened your account again. You may log in with the password—”

“Hang on, I gotta type it.”

“Of course. Ready?”

“Yes.”

“Capital letter ‘C’ as in Charlie, 1,9,3,8, lower-case ‘j’ as in Juliet, 2, lower-case ‘i’ as in India.”

Another long moment of silence. Damien tapped his foot slightly on the floor.

“Got it.”

“Splendid! I hope you have a great day, Mr. Hawthorne,” Damien said, putting as much cheer into his voice as he could. “Call again if you have any more issues.”

“Yeah, I probably will. Goodbye.”

As soon as the call ended, Damien placed his arms on his desk, removed his glasses, then rubbed at his eyes. Did he truly enjoy this type of work? Between coding and fixing security issues within the company’s network, he had to handle most of the ‘Fix it I.T. guy!’ problems that arose. Those were genuine headaches, especially when he had irate members of the company yelling at him when their own incompetence or impatience caused them to make mistakes. But, Damien supposed, the rewards of being able to create entire mini-worlds through the programs or feeling a thrill of shutting down security threats outweighed the more infuriating parts of the job. Damien rose in his chair, put his glasses on again, and proceeded to click away from the accounts window to focus on his other two. He checked his watch briefly. Ah—his lunch with Joseph was looming.

 Perhaps he just didn’t like interacting with irksome people.

As Damien isolated the bug for accounting, his phone buzzed on his left. He swiped it up and checked. A text from Robert. While hand-written notes were preferred between them, Damien had agreed that texts would be allowed. True, Robert preferred lewd texts and photos, Damien did try to keep them tame, or relegated to alerting Robert when he had things to do before returning home. Thankfully, Robert agreed to do the same… along with the dick pics.

Damien rolled his chair to the small entryway to his cubicle, using his feet to steer, and checked that no one would walk by. Just in case. Then he went to the message.

_gettin drinks w mary. later sexy_

Damien blushed slightly. While he didn’t approve of Robert going out to drink during the day, he did concede that he kept Robert busy on most nights, and as Robert’s drinking had subsided, he wasn’t going to deny his lover his pleasures.

_Enjoy and use moderation, dearest. I’ll see you soon._

Damien set the phone down and resumed his work. He had to finish these tasks before his lunch hour.

* * *

 

The restaurant by the docks was Joseph’s personal favorite. Captain’s Quarters had been the backdrop of several good memories for the man. Dinners with neighbors (though none with Robert during their affair), grabbing drinks with Mary and  her old gang before being ‘adults’ started getting in the way, celebrating his new driver’s license. He remembered the first time his dad brought him here. A rare, truly happy moment with his father. Joseph had been thirteen, and his father had taken him fishing on their new boat, the two listening to the radio as the vessel was rocked by the currents. When they’d gotten back to land, not a single fish had been caught, but Joseph remembered how calm and happy his father had been. They’d eaten at the Quarters before returning home, to the things that, looking back, Joseph supposed they’d both wanted to escape.

Joseph sat at one of the out-door tables while he waited for Damien to arrive. It wasn’t a long wait, though. Five minutes after being seated, he spotted Damien’s black Lincoln pulling in. Damien was still in his work outfit, too. Better make the most of the hour, then. Joseph smiled, waving at Damien until the ebon-haired man joined him.

“This is certainly an interesting choice in eateries,” Damien said as he took the seat opposite the youth pastor.

“Nothing beats lunch with an ocean view,” Joseph said. The waiter came over, a face he recognized, too, brought them menus and a glass of water for Damien.

“Hey there!” the 30-something, slightly husky man said, “My name’s Quinn, and I’ll be serving you!”

Joseph chuckled. “Hello again, DJ Spin-master. How are things? Did the counseling go well?”

Their waiter looked startled to be recognized. “Um… Fine? And… it’s okay…”

Joseph then raised an eyebrow. “I’m surprised to see you here. Have you given up being an entertainer, Quinn?”

“Uh, n-no” Quinn stammered to recover, “I-I’m a dude of many hats. B-But, anyway, what are you guys havin’ today?”

Damien shot a look of confusion toward Joseph, which the blond caught. Joseph just grinned. “Have anything you want,” he said to Damien. “It’s my treat, after all.”

Damien folded his menu and said, “Then I will have the garden salad, with blue cheese dressing. But please, don’t drench it.”

“Fried cod,” Joseph said, “With hushpuppies. And I better not hear them barking,” he added with a soft laugh. The humor was lost on Quinn as he just took the menus and promised to have their food out soon. Joseph sighed. “Some people can’t appreciate a good joke, can they, Damien?”

Damien just stared at him for a bit before turning his head and adjusting the glasses on his nose.

Yeah, the awkward silence was settling in very nicely. Joseph took a sip of his ice water. “So… How’s things been? Have a nice Sunday?”

“Indeed,” Damien said, “It was lovely. Lucien stayed home for most of it and joined Robert and myself in the garden.”

Joseph tried not to twitch at the name drop. “Really? What did the three of you do?”

“We enjoyed cold tea together and mused about bouquet arrangements.”

That sounded nothing like what Robert would enjoy. At least not to Joseph.

“Well,” Damien said, “I mused, and Robert suggested pieces to add that turned them all into insults.”

That was a little closer to Robert’s taste. “I’m sure they had fun,” he said aloud.

“Indeed!” Damien said, his lips curling up. “It was quite close to being a perfect day.”

Joseph reached for his glass and took another long sip from the straw. He needed to be calm. He didn’t need irrational jealousy dominating his thoughts. This lunch was a gesture of good will. It was to apologize for the cook-out incident.

“How was your day?” Damien asked.

“Oh,” Joseph said, looking out toward the ocean. “You know, same blessed day!” He smiled so wide his cheeks hurt a little. “Pastor Phillips delivered a fantastic sermon, as always. Crish didn’t cry during the hymns… Mary was hungover, but she didn’t sneer the whole time, so, always a plus!”

“I see,” Damien said, not so cheerful about the description of Joseph’s Sunday Morning routine.

“Yep. Just another day in paradise,” Joseph said. He sucked more water through his straw until the glass was half emptied before he asked, “So… Robert is a good boyfriend?”

“I find him to be so,” Damien told him.

Joseph tapped his fingers against the table a bit.

_Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name… Hold my tongue and don’t…don’t…_

“So you don’t mind his ‘past’?” Joseph blurted out.

Damien looked at him with an eyebrow up. “Past?”

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!_

“It’s just,” Joseph said, “You know that he’s one of Mary’s ‘friends’ that she likes to take out drinking.”

“Indeed, and another is a man I know you’ve had as a helper in your bake sales,” Damien said. “And he is quite a model citizen. There is nothing wrong in occasionally indulging in social drinking.”

“Except Mary and Robert don’t do it on ‘occasion’,” Joseph countered. “But… you’re right, a little social drinking isn’t bad… However,” he needed to shut up, “I know that Robert has had more than a few ‘guests’ over at his house.”

“Joseph, is this polite to be talking about in such a public setting?” Damien crossed his arms over his chest.

“I’m just worried,” Joseph told him. “For you, as my wife’s best friend, and a good neighbor. Some mornings, I’ve seen Robert sending quite a few different people from his home. A man with so many… ‘partners’ is going to be a little on the questionable side.”

Damien looked away. “Robert’s sexual past has nothing to do with you, and little to do with him and me, now. But to assuage your fears, I assure you, he has admitted to me that he has had many partners. None of them serious between his wife and myself. But he is also healthy, and practices safe sex. I do appreciate the thought behind your concerns, Joseph, but there is nothing to fear.”

Joseph clenched a fist against his khaki clad thigh. “…Aren’t you worried he won’t be faithful?”

“Not in the least,” Damien said. The other man placed his hand on the table, and said softly, “Robert isn’t like some men I know.”

Joseph’s body felt chilled, in spite of the hot sun shining on them. Did that mean…

“And who do you know who ** _is_** like that?” Joseph asked, voice going just as low and soft.

“This isn’t the time or place to discuss this,” Damien said. Joseph’s fingers tapped on the table yet again.

“You wouldn’t have brought it up if you didn’t feel strongly about it,” Joseph said. He needed to know! Did Damien know about his indiscretion?

“We’re not idle gossipers,” Damien replied.

“I won’t mention it to anyone else,” Joseph promised. If it was someone else, it was just things between two acquaintances. If it was about himself, naturally he wouldn’t say a damn thing.

Damien sighed. Then he looked at Joseph with a heaviness in his natural brown eyes. “I show you civility, Joseph,” he said, “Out of courtesy to my friend and for the peace of the cul-de-sac. Do you want the truth from me so much that we might risk all of that?”

He really didn’t, but if Damien knew… “What do you know?” Joseph asked him, friendly tone completely gone.

Damien removed his glasses, and folded them in his hand. “I know that you cheated on Mary,” Damien said point blank. “It broke her heart, and when she called me, sobbing, screaming, and distraught all those years ago, I wanted nothing more than to get on the soonest flight to return and rip out your own faithless, insincere heart.”

Joseph’s stomach clenched hard. Damn it. Well, he should have guessed Damien would know. He’d known Mary for years. When Damien left for college back then, she had done everything possible to keep in touch with her best friend. He should have guessed that even ten years ago, Damien would be the one person Mary confided in. It also explained why Damien seemed to be polite, but not exactly ‘friendly’ to Joseph in the way he was with the other neighbors.

“That’s a little much, isn’t it?” Joseph asked him.

“You hurt the person who stood by me when others had abandoned me,” Damien said. “She was my first and strongest ally when I had to hide my true self, and my greatest source of strength when I went through the hardest years of my life after coming out. You stole her heart, and shattered it by taking a lover when you should have been with her, trying to help her through her postpartum depression. Had you been willing to stand with her, seek help with her, rather than running into the arms of another, she might not have resorted to alcohol for comfort instead. I admit, my friend is no saint, but many of her choices were influenced by your own.”

Joseph’s hands clenched. How dare this bastard say that when he was fucking the man Joseph had been with during that time? It wasn’t just his fault, damn it! Robert had known Mary was going through shit, had known that Joseph was afraid they were going to split. But Robert had been so deep in his own pain, his own grief that he’d been just as willing to forget about it all with sex and escaping the situation. Why was Joseph the only one being blamed? This had always grated on Joseph: the fact that Mary could forgive Robert for fucking her husband, or being damned near ready to run off with him if they’d had the chance, but she couldn’t forgive Joseph? Especially since Joseph had kept himself in check for so long afterward—had denied all the needs and desires he’d had boiling inside of him, had given in to the temptations of money and pride for the sake of their children and their rotting marriage? Was Damien no different, for all of the airs the man liked to throw on?

“You know,” Joseph said, his lips curling up into a very big smile, feeling the last threads of cordiality really snapping. He wasn’t going to take this. He was tired of having to endure the judgement. “It takes two to tango, Damien, and it really, really pisses me off that you and Mary can glare at me and judge me for what I did when Robert was just as much at fault.”

“What?” Damien asked.

“I mean, seriously, neither of us should have jumped into it: but he’d lost his wife, I thought my marriage was going to break apart! What’s wrong with us finding some comfort in each other for a little while?” With the flood gates opened, Joseph found himself unable to stop talking, “I wanted some passion again! Something good! Something raw and a little wild—and he just wanted someone to help him ease his pain! We both wanted it, we both did it, so why the hell am I the pariah, but he gets the free pass?” Joseph could almost feel the weight of his reigned-in anger starting to lift. Ah… It’d been a while since he’d gotten so much off his chest.

Joseph looked at Damien again, and the expression he got was… unsettling. Damien’s eyes had gone wide. He wasn’t blinking. Wasn’t moving at all, except for a small quiver of his chin.

“It was Robert?” Damien’s voice squeaked out.

Joseph felt ill.

“You said you knew.”

“I-I knew that you- you’d slept with someone,” Damien stuttered. “I d-didn’t know who…”

_Fuck._

_FUCK._

_You’ve gone and done it, you moron._

_But then, that’s what you wanted, wasn’t it? To make him realize how shitty his man was?_

As they sat silent, Quinn returned with their plates. Joseph felt like he was going to vomit just at the smell of it all. He waited for the waiter to leave before he spoke. “Damien, listen, it was—it was a long time ago! Before you moved back. Before now! Didn’t you say he was a good boyfriend? You’re happy right? And—and you’re not going to let something done while we were emotionally compromised ruin your relationship now, right?”

Damien’s eyes flicked down. “I used to send silent curses of hatred at you and the nameless face that helped hurt Mary. I used to… wish the most unspeakable, horrible fates on both of you.” Damien covered his mouth with his hands, speaking into them, “Robert… It was…”

“Damien…I’m sorry!” Joseph half-stood and leaned over the table, reaching for Damien’s shoulder. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Don’t touch me!” Damien shouted, his hand rising and slapping Joseph’s hand away. Joseph didn’t fight it, but as Damien bolted up, he too left his seat entirely.

“Please, I mean it, I’m sorry!” Joseph had to stop him. If Mary found out…

“I need to think!” Damien cried back, already down the stair leading away from the eating area and going for the parking lot.

“Damien!” Joseph yelled. “Damien, come back!”

_God forgive me._

“DAMIEN!”

_God forgive me, god forgive me…_

* * *

Damien drove almost on autopilot. Not back to work, nor to his home, but to the place that gave him the most comfort and ability to think. He parked a few feet from the graveyard’s entry gate, and got out of his car. He barely had enough brain function to remember to take his keys with him as he fumbled with his door latch, left his car, and proceeded onto the grounds. He did not look at the stones surrounding him, nor the mausoleum monuments. The predominant focus was: Robert had slept with Joseph. Robert had been the lover, the 'harlot', the 'tart' (and more words he had tossed about with Mary in private conversations) who seduced Mary’s straight-laced husband. Robert didn’t tell him this. Even after revealing the loss of his wife, and estrangement with his daughter, Robert had denied Damien this important, major secret that had influenced Damien’s distaste with Joseph for years! And Mary had known. Mary knew, and she didn’t bother to tell Damien, not even after he’d begun dating Robert—she’d known, and she said nothing!

Damien’s legs began to lose their strength. He veered toward the grass and walked shortly to a squared, largish headstone and dropped down by it, gripping the polished edges for some anchoring. He breathed in deeply, forcing himself to calm down. As he rolled to sit down on the ground, rather than kneel in it, his phone went off. He pulled it from his trouser pocket. His employer. Ah yes. Work.

“Hello?”

“Damien, you’re fifteen minutes late,” His employer, Edgar, had a strong accent from his native home of Venezuela, but it was no impediment to his strong linguistic skills. It was somewhat soothing, sometimes, in a melodious way. Damien rubbed at his eyes. Had he left his glasses behind? Well, his eyesight wasn’t so terrible that he couldn’t see anything. He dropped his free hand.

“Yes,” Damien said, “I know. I… I might not be able to return today. I’m…I’m sorry.”

“Damien, this is the third time,” his employer asked. Edgar’s tone was not accusatory, nor angry. It was gentle, sincerely worried. “Are you going to be okay?”

“I just…need today. I promise. Please, Edgar?”

“Ah, all right. But I want you to know, you can talk to me about things, if you want. I can even schedule you a couple of personal days off next week, if you need them.”

Damien smiled a bit weakly. “Thank you, Edgar.”

“Take care, Damien,” Edgar said before the line went dead. Damien was about to slide his phone back into his pocket when it beeped and vibrated in his palm.

A text from Robert.

_hey sexu gon hom c u ltr_

The frequent misspellings and reduction to ‘leet speak’ meant Robert was well and drunk. Damien took a breath, and texted back.

_Meet me at my place. Bring Mary._

_I need to talk to you both._

He waited, hands trembling slightly as he looked at the screen.

_k_

**Author's Note:**

> We're not done yet. More angst is to come, folks. Prepare yourselves. 
> 
> Kudos are wonderful, but comments give me fuel! Comment, critique, whether it's a small comment or an essay, I want them all! Your thoughts and feelings matter to me!
> 
> And if you want WIP updates and snippets, or want to follow a mad fangirl who posts whatever, follow me on justthefangirl.tumblr.com


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